


Turn the Record Over

by mooosicaldreamz



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 21:36:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooosicaldreamz/pseuds/mooosicaldreamz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short epilogue to "Thanksgiving." The inside of Quinn's head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn the Record Over

Yale is not a disaster. Not per se, it’s more just - she misses people. She feels out of sorts, in a way she hadn’t expected. She misses her friends, even Finn, the great big doofus he is. Yale is not bad. Yale is different.

Yale has this girl.

There’s always a girl, that’s what Puck keeps saying, while he snickers over the phone. She told him over the summer about Rachel and all the feelings and he had gawped at her for a good two or three hours. There’s a girl at Yale, and Quinn is fascinated by her. She isn’t unlike Rachel, because she talks way too much and sings all the time. She isn’t as good as Rachel.

The girl doesn’t like it when she talks about Rachel, which concerns Quinn. Rachel exists, up north, a train away if Quinn could convince herself that it was a good idea to come up there. But every weekend she thinks, “Maybe this time...” the other girl calls up and demands they watch some new movie, or go to this party, or go to some sporting event.

It’s distracting. Quinn has a B in her screenwriting class, and she is certain it is because the girl texts her during it. She never does her homework for it because Rachel sends these massive emails, jabbering on about classes, some woman named Cassandra, Kurt and Blaine’s dramatic troubles, and Brody. Brody with the Greek god body. The weekend Finn and Rachel broke up, Quinn almost went up. She had a suitcase half-packed, suddenly very certain that now was her chance. This was the moment. She could come to New York, be herself, be there for Rachel, sing sad songs with her, buy her vegan ice cream.

Then Ellie had called. Saying something about a zombies versus humans war breaking out on campus, and how Ellie needed to seek safe haven in Quinn’s dorm, because it was a specified safe zone. And Ellie had shown up with her own suitcase, for the weekend, determined to ride out the fight. Quinn checked later and was certain that no such war had broken out, but at the time, it had felt like a viable reason to drop everything and leave Rachel with Kurt, to let them live out their pain on their own.

And that was the girl. She had told Santana some bullshit story about her psychology professor, because she hadn’t found some way to tell Santana about a girl or any girls. Santana would make jokes about making out with Berry all she wanted, but she would never believe Quinn if she said that it was true, that she would like to be making out with Berry. Or she had wanted to, maybe.

Yale had this girl, who had gotten stuck in her gears, and being back in Lima just reminded her why she had left. To get away from this crazy feeling that climbed into her head while she was there, where she threatened people and stalked everywhere. She wanted to be that person Rachel Berry had seen somewhere deep in her. And she was that person at Yale. No psychology professors divorcing their wives anywhere in sight. Just this girl. And the one hovering in her head and inbox.

She lands at the airport in Hartford and she sees a plane to New York City, leaving in a few hours. She doesn’t buy a ticket, because Ellie is waiting for her somewhere outside, having come to pick her up.

Rachel Berry had convinced her to come out here, to get out of the cowtown, and now that she was out here, she felt like she was drifting away from her. And it wasn’t as though Rachel was using her train passes, either. She was, in fact, posting drunk pictures on Facebook and Twitter with Brody, and Kurt, and a couple drag queens.

Maybe this was the point of growing up. Loving, losing, and loving again. And learning along the way. Taking inspiration where it came.

She looks down as her phone buzzes. It’s Rachel. She’s definitely had some alcohol. “mzss yu quinnnnie! culd use yorr alto in this arranggement!”

Another one comes through. It’s Ellie, and Quinn laughs at the juxtaposition. The laugh comes out sounding strangled, almost hysterical. “I bought you a coffee and it’s getting cold, get your ass out here.”

She goes outside, and gets her coffe, and as Ellie wraps her up in a tight hug, she thinks about whether new beginnings are possible when you feel like you haven’t ended the last one.


End file.
